


Unexpected Help

by mhunter10



Series: fic!february (28 day challenge) [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Fic!February, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:41:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lip takes over the household and gets help from someone unexpected. Ian is in a dark place when he returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Help

Ian awoke to the sound of low murmuring coming from the corner of the room. It sounded muffled from his place deep in the confines of his blankets. It was too deep to be Carl's, but it was familiar. He hadn't realized he'd been sleeping, even though it was pretty much all he did now, and felt slightly annoyed at being suddenly being conscious of the world around him again. It was late, he could tell that much from how dark it was. When he dared to open his eyes and lift them to the only opening at the top of his covers, he could see a soft glow coming from Liam's night-light. He could hear the little boy's voice occasionally, reacting to one of his stories being read to him probably, but Ian couldn't think who would be doing it. Everything was so different now with Fiona gone. He had only just come home, when something new turned the household upside down. And the weirdest part was now Lip was in charge. He was checking homework and attempting to make breakfast, when he should have been going to class and getting the fuck out of the Southside.

But the Gallaghers didn't get a break. Nothing could ever be normal for them, and they didn't know how to even do normal, hence the situation they were all in now.

Ian couldn't bring himself to care anymore that his problem seemed to be swept under the rug yet again, in the shadow of the next one of Frank and Monica's progeny to follow in their footsteps to self-doom.

He rarely left his bed now, let alone the room. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been downstairs or even out of the house. All the energy he had went into getting to the bathroom in time to piss or be sick, and dragging himself back to the only place he felt like being. His blankets became a cocoon around him, letting him escape from having to do anything else and trapping him in his own thoughts until he was too exhausted to stay awake.

He didn't talk anymore.

Even if he'd wanted to, his voice would be raw and nonexistent from disuse. Even now his throat felt like he was swallowing sand from some desert he narrowly escaped. His mouth was dry and he kind of wished the person in the room would get him some water.

Debbie had stopped doing it.

They'd all just stopped, too busy with their own lives to worry about their half-brother who was no longer missing.

He shifted under the weight of his thoughts hitting the blanket above him and crashing back down on him. His body was sore. The voice nearby immediately stopped mid-sentence, but their was no sound of movement. He slowly turned onto his back, wincing at the ache in his limbs, and removed the covers from over him. He blinked and stared at the ceiling. Liam seemed to protest the abrupt stop in his story, but the voice didn't continue. Ian could hear them breathing now. The little bed against the wall creaked when the someone got up and moved closer to his bed slowly.

Ian looked over into deep blue eyes and felt his stomach sink into the mattress underneath him. He didn't move or look away for an eternity. He couldn't. He knew he should feel surprised, but he hardly felt anything lately, he didn't know if he remembered how. He just stared into the face he'd been dreaming about for so long. He ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed, but it did nothing.

"Thirsty?" Mickey asked quietly, his voice cracking slightly. Ian didn't respond, although he looked away like it caused him some inner turmoil. Mickey turned and left the room. He came back with a plastic cup he'd snagged from the bathroom filled with water from the sink. It would have to do.

Ian rubbed his hands over his face before sitting up a bit more and taking the cup. The liquid felt great splashing over his tongue and going down his throat. He took large gulps and finished it in seconds. Mickey took the cup from him and went back for more, which Ian was grateful for as he downed the second cup. He could hear all the water slosh around in his empty stomach as he turned on his side facing the room.

"Story..." Liam said through the silence.

Mickey didn't look away from Ian when he answered, "Yeah, in a minute, kid." It wasn't harsh. He felt a little bad for bringing the youngest Gallagher's bedtime routine to a halt, but there was something else that needed his attention now.

He didn't know how he'd ended up helping out all the time. He'd stopped by looking for Mandy, and was roped into it. It seemed there was always some form of chaos surrounding the other Southside family, and now they needed an extra set of hands. At first he'd tried to stay as far away as possible, but he couldn't do that knowing the one person he was desperate to see was finally back where he was supposed to be. But then he never saw him around, and only heard through Mandy and Lip talking that he was "different" and "changed". What did that mean? He had to find out for himself, so if filling a sippy cup and folding laundry meant he got to see Ian, then he was damn well going to do it. He actually didn't mind so much, ironically using it as an escape from his own impending fatherhood.

Mickey hadn't expected him to be so bad, though. He only really checked in on him when he was sure he was asleep, which was more often than not, but he'd been told not to even bother by the rest of the house. How could the boy who used to be so strong in more ways than one, be so out of shape now?

Mickey had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he wasn't prepared to be kneeling on the floor face to face with the redhead who could make him feel everything all at once just by the way he was looking at him. Although his green eyes didn't have nearly the same life in them as they did before, there was something he could see in them...

Ian brought the blankets up to cover half his face, but kept his eyes on Mickey. He took in everything about him, from the way a few strands of hair fell in his face, to the lines of too much worry and not enough laughter. He could almost see that smile in his mind.

It made his eyes sting and he hated it. He hated everything now, even himself. Some days it was a little, other days it almost crushed the life out of him so he wouldn't have to do it himself. Tears formed in his eyes the longer he stared at what Mickey was saying with his.

Mickey reached out and put a tentative hand to Ian's face, leaning in closer and looking at him completely break apart in front of him.

"Ian, what the hell happened to you?" He says, but he doesn't really want to know.

And Ian can't tell him. Instead he retreats into his thick shell and hides from the heartbroken, worried face springing tears of its own.

"Story, Ian!" Liam says louder, making his brother flinch from under his shield.

Mickey reluctantly pulls away, wiping at his eyes, and goes over to the little boy. He moves the book back to the dresser and lays him down, shushing him as he pulls the covers up and tucks him in. He dims the night-light and goes to close the door. He wants to lock it out of habit, but knows he won't hear the end of it if the kid can't get out in the middle of the night and has an accident.

Ian feels his bed dip, as Mickey climbs in and settles behind him. He turns and brings him into the warm protection of his blankets, shoving his face into his chest and fully letting go. He knows he's soaking his shirt through, but he grips at it anyway. Mickey just takes it all, wrapping his arms around the younger boy and rubbing his back as he trembles and shakes against him.

"I'm so--..." Ian croaks, gasping for breath between his sobs.

"I know," Mickey whispers, pressing him closer to him and holding him tight.

By the time Ian finally passes out in his arms, Mickey wonders if he really knows anything at all.


End file.
